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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22789702">A Thousand Things To Say</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charlie9646/pseuds/Charlie9646'>Charlie9646</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Death Eaters, During the War, F/M, Flashbacks, Love Story, Lucius’s and Narcissa’s love story, Minor Mentions of Violence, PTSD, The Trial, courting, grey narcissa, mentions of miscarriage and stillbirth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 17:29:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,713</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22789702</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charlie9646/pseuds/Charlie9646</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Narcissa was born to marry someone like Lucius; her parents would let her choose, but it had to be someone worthy of her. Their love story is something she holds close to her heart. </p><p>Lucius was that— he was intelligent, funny, and he held attention like he was born to. But, the love of her life carries a deep dark secret that will bring them nothing but doom.</p><p>When her husband cannot protect her or her son anymore Narcissa must— but didn't her mother always say when in doubt leave it to a woman?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Love Fest 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Thousand Things To Say</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/LionLadyBee/gifts">LionLadyBee</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I have wanted to write this story for months; your request finally gave me a reason to, so thank you for asking for it.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  
</p><p> </p><p>”Tell me every terrible thing you ever did, and let me love anyway.”</p><p> </p><p>Narcissa Malfoy wished she could be at any other time and in any other place. The dark lord haunted her beloved manor as if he owned the place— as if it was his manor, but the truth is it was not. Though the fact was Malfoy wasn't hers either. If Lucius never left Azkaban prison, it would go to her son Draco. Women had no value in the Malfoy family. Not one bit. They were the mothers, and the daughters were even worse— you sent them away to their chosen husbands after they graduated from Hogwarts.</p><p> </p><p>Or at least that was how it had been before her and Lucius. If Draco would have been a daughter? The child would have cared for the same. A daughter had just as much value as a son. But, it was not to be Draco was the only child they would have, their beloved son, their precious child— a gift from the very Gods themselves.</p><p> </p><p>Draco wasn't the first child to be born to them, but he was the first to live. Maybe that was the reason she spoiled him, perhaps that was why Lucius doted onto the child’s every wish. Because he nearly wasn't born and he almost didn't live. She was hiding in her husband’s office, whether or not this manor was indeed hers or not— she was the mistress of it. And yet here she hid.</p><p> </p><p>Lucius was supposed to be here. It was his choices that led to that wretched half-blood fiend taking up residence in their beloved manor. It was his actions that led to that devil of a man giving her beloved son an impossible task. It led to having to ask the man she compared long ago to a stray dog— to protect Draco. To do the impossible task if her son could not. She knew her son could not; Draco was no killer; it was not in his nature.</p><p> </p><p>Narcissa did not even know what she was doing here; what was she chasing? What was she looking for? It felt as if a noose was around her neck, and with every minute— no every second, every breath it became tighter. They were as doomed as Hercules and Megara, but Lucius wouldn't be the one to kill her. That would be Voldemort, and just like the legend, their son would die along with her.</p><p> </p><p>But, unlike the story told around the fire—no mad goddess was pulling strings—it was her husband’s ambition that was doing such a thing. They might not die by his hands, but they surely would by his actions.</p><p> </p><p>Narcissa’s pale fingers brushed an oddly placed book on her husband’s antique oak desk. It turned into a pile of letters. They were yellowed with age, but she knew her husband’s handwriting anywhere along with her own. She collapsed into her husband’s armchair. Trying to escape into the letters, the letters that had long ago made her fall in love with Lucius. The words that reminded her of the life she once had. The beauty of what their relationship had once been, and might one day be again if this war would ever come to an end— if it did not end in their doom that is.</p><p> </p><p>*************************</p><p> </p><p>Narcissa had met Lucius at a party, a party that had been like any other, but it felt different so utterly different than all those before them. She was twelve dressed in a gown that had once been her mother’s, Sapphire blue— her mother claimed it brought out her teardrop colored eyes. But also that it made her hair look even lighter blonde than it was.</p><p> </p><p>Lucius was fourteen—he wore the Malfoy confidence her son would one day inherit like a cloak—of better yet a shield. He asked her to dance, and her mother answered for her, ”Narcissa would love to dance, Lucius.”</p><p> </p><p>She wanted to scream at her mother and knock the stupid smirk off of Lucius’s pale face. Her eye’s darted looking for an escape, Bella was chatting with some man Narcissa didn't know the name of, Andy was trying to wrangle their cousins. Her father was talking to her uncle Orion; she had no escape. He wasn't that horrible to look at— and it was just one dance, what harm would one dance do?</p><p> </p><p>She took his hand and said to him, ”I will dance with you, Lucius. But, it best is you remember—the only one who speaks for me—is me.”</p><p> </p><p>Lucius said with a smile, ”Narcissa, I would never ask for anything less.”</p><p> </p><p>Narcissa thought to herself, maybe just maybe Lucius Malfoy was not all that bad.</p><p> </p><p>****************************</p><p> </p><p>Narcissa was fifteen years old now; she no longer saw Lucius as the stupid childish boy he had once been. He had grown from a stuck up boy to a strong, intelligent, and handsome man. He was seventeen years old. They were sitting by the lake; it was cold, but beautiful the sun was setting over the water.</p><p> </p><p>Lucius whispered into her ear, ”Are you cold?”</p><p> </p><p>She nodded.</p><p> </p><p>He stripped off his cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders.</p><p> </p><p>Narcissa had wanted to do this for a while; she just had to get the courage. She stood and placed one hand on his chest, the other in the man’s spun white gold blonde hair. She sighed; the man’s blue-grey eyes stared into hers. The man seemed so utterly shocked, but she was going to shock him even more.</p><p> </p><p>She kissed him, not a simple peck on the lips; she wanted to feel every single part of him. Narcissa was going to marry this man; as soon as she graduated— she would be his wife. Her parents and his had agreed. But the truth is, why wouldn't they? This marriage would tie two great families together.</p><p> </p><p>She shoved the man of her dreams—her soulmate—into the grass. Fingers tangled into hair; noses bumped against one another, his hand went under her shirt and hers in his pants. It felt so odd to be touched and to touch in this way. It felt so new, so strange, but also as if it was magic in itself — a different kind of magic than what you learned in school. But, it was magic all the same.</p><p> </p><p>They laid next to each other on the grass—just barely touching—they could forget everything else together at this moment. All that mattered was them, not the war, not Voldemort, and undoubtedly not the choices they had to make once they left school. At this moment, they were just Narcissa and Lucius— nothing more.</p><p> </p><p>**********************</p><p> </p><p>He's just a child!” Shouted Narcissa, she wanted to rip her husband’s very heart out of his chest and place it on a platter, but she settled for slapping him. The crack of her hand hitting his face filled her ears—she was shocked at what she had done—shocked she was capable of such violence.</p><p> </p><p>His crystal blue eyes were clouded with scorn and pain. He, too, was shocked that she, Narcissa, his wife, his love, his bonded, his soulmate, his one above all else, was capable of awful action. They, at that moment, had both crossed a line that they might not be able to cross back over.</p><p> </p><p>Then Lucius snarled at her like some great beast, ”Why do you care so much about a stupid dirty little half-blood? Snape is nothing more than a stray dog pretending to be a man—he’s a worthless piece of shit. And he's of age anyway. Why do you care so much about the son of a filthy blood traitor?”</p><p> </p><p>She laughed at him, her tone mocking, ”I am not talking about the bloody fucking stray you insist I allow in my home, do what you please to it. I care nothing for Snape; the world would be a better place if he were gone. I am talking about my cousin; you know Regulus? The boy whose not of age and who took the mark. The last young, living male heir of my family. If I can't get pregnant and something happens to Regulus, the Blacks are doomed to the pages of history. As dead as the Druids, as dead as the Gaunts. As dead as the Slytherins and the rest of the founder’s family’s.</p><p> </p><p>Why did you take my cousin to our lord like he were just some pawn to buy you better standing?”</p><p> </p><p>Lucius brushed his cold fingers down her cheek, ”My Sweet, I did not bring Regulus to the dark lord... That was your dear sister, Bellatrix. It had nothing to do with trying to buy favor. The boy asked to go to the meetings. He wants to undo with his actions the shame his brother brought to the family. That bastard Sirius makes the Blacks look horrible and stupid. He wants to correct people’s opinions of your family.”</p><p> </p><p>Narcissa whispered, ”I am sorry, Lucius, I should have known better. That you wouldn't put my family, our family at risk.”</p><p> </p><p>”Our family, Narcissa, is you, the children we will have together and me. That is the most important thing. Everything else is window dressing of the life we have together.”</p><p> </p><p>They were doomed, she thought, doomed like some great saga of a love story of the old. Like Romeo and Juliet, but unlike Juliet—Narcissa would not shove a dagger into her own heart—she was far too much of a Slytherin for such a thing. But, on the other side of the coin, she adored, no, she cherished her husband. She would follow him into destruction because he was her husband, and she was his wife.</p><p> </p><p>Her sisters, too, we're doomed. Bellatrix was lost in the madness of her mind, and the other was lost by her choice to marry the mudblood. The grounding force to her was that Lucius was Lucius, and she was Narcissa, that was all that mattered.</p><p> </p><p>*************************</p><p> </p><p>Narcissa’s son was born on an unseasonably cold and somewhat wet June morning. The sound of the rain hitting the roof filled Narcissa’s ears, the claps of thunder and lightning striking in the distance. Her son was perfect and healthy. His thin white-blonde hair, his baby blue eyes, and his clear pale skin.</p><p> </p><p>Four miscarriages, two stillbirths had been what had gotten them here. But, Draco in her arms, her son, half Lucius and half herself, made it all worth it. The Black family would not die with her. Regulus was dead, no one would speak of the cause, Bellatrix was more beast than woman, and the rest of their family had been blasted off the tree.</p><p> </p><p>But, this beautiful boy would carry the blood of both the Blacks and the Malfoys.</p><p> </p><p>She whispered to her son, ”We shall call Draco Lucius Malfoy, my perfect boy, and you shall never be unhappy, my son. The world will never harm you as long as there is still air in my lungs.”</p><p> </p><p>*********************</p><p> </p><p>Imagines passed before her eyes as she sat in the courtroom, memories of a life lived. Lucius’s first trial hadn't they gotten off so easy? Them raising their son during the time between the wars, sending him off to Hogwarts. The stray it seemed did have a purpose—he kept her son safe—during his years at Hogwarts and then during the hell that had been the second war.</p><p> </p><p>The man sat next to them; his greasy hair hung in his gaunt face. His black eyes were staring off in the distance. Severus Snape was far more than his looks, though. He was a snake if there had ever been one, the moment you thought you truly understood him, he shed his skin and became something else.</p><p> </p><p>Even though they were on opposite sides in the end, she was impressed by his ability to trick the dark lord, her husband, but mostly her. But, now it seemed that the war was over the man crumbled into himself—even though their case had not been heard—it was as if he had accepted his conviction already. As he was waiting for his execution. As if he had decided he was guilty as if he decided they were all already guilty.</p><p> </p><p>Lucius, her beautiful Lucius looked like a shell of the man he had once been. His hair that once looked like the mane of a great stallion— was thin and ragged. His skin had an unhealthy grey tint to it. His eyes, however, were the most heartbreaking. They were the eyes of a dead man. Or at least of a man who had long since resigned himself to his fate.</p><p> </p><p>Narcissa said to them, ”We are going to see the other side of this.”</p><p> </p><p>Severus muttered, ”You and Draco may see the other side of this, but I will not. Neither with will Lucius. I allowed monsters to torture children. I don't deserve to be allowed freedom!”</p><p> </p><p>” Wait and see you stupid fool. I will get us off, and you will get to continue with your miserable existence.” She snarled with much contempt. Men, they were all the same; they needed a wife to care for them just as once their mothers had. Her husband acted as if his vocal cords had been cut out, her son just stared at his dragonhide boots.</p><p> </p><p>Her once-proud husband was diminished to no better than a dog waiting to be kicked; Snape was just a stupid lovestruck obsessed fool over a dead mudblood, her son was only a scared child fearful of what may come. It was her job to save them—Malfoy money would not buy their freedom this time.</p><p> </p><p>Narcissa spoke to the Auror closest to them, ”I need to speak to Mr. Potter.”</p><p> </p><p>The red-haired man, likely related to the Weasleys, laughed. ”Why would Harry Potter talk to you, death eater?”</p><p> </p><p>”You see no mark on my arm, Auror, I am no death eater. Now I need to speak to Mr. Potter.”</p><p> </p><p>The man laughed, ”Why would the savior want to speak to you?”</p><p> </p><p>She snarled tired of the games this man seemed to be playing for the sheer sake of playing, ”Because of the fact Mr. Potter owes me a life debt, and I am interested in cashing it in. Beyond that, I doubt he wants to owe a Malfoy anything for an extended time, now does he? I might use it to my advantage if he ever becomes an Auror, as I believe he plans to. Now I repeat, I need to speak to Mr. Potter about an arrangement to deal with such matters.”</p><p> </p><p>The Auror’s blue eyes widened, and he muttered, ”I will go get Mr. Potter.”</p><p> </p><p>”See that you do.”</p><p> </p><p>Her mother long ago told her, men seemed to believe that they, muggle or wizard, ran the world, but the stark truth was when you needed something done well, you left it to a woman.</p><p> </p><p>A reporter later asked her on the steps as she, her son, her husband, and Snape walked free, ”Why did you turn on, you know who?”</p><p> </p><p>Narcissa deadpanned, ”Because of the fact he went after my son.” Blood purity mattered far less to Narcissa than her son. Name, family, and honor did not hold a candle to her Draco. Traitor may she be, but Draco would live to old age now if she had any say in the matter.</p><p> </p><p>Later that night, when Narcissa heard the sounds of her son’s and husband’s screams, night terrors, she thought. Instead of running to Lucius, she told the house-elf to deal with him and ran to Draco’s bedside. Lucius had told her decades ago that her family, her cousin, was just window dressings. He had been right, but after his betrayal, the actions that led to putting her son in danger? Now he was just window dressings; he would forever be the second thought in her mind.</p><p> </p><p>A mother’s love was a powerful thing when the woman knew how to wield it. Lily Potter may have died for her son, but Narcissa Malfoy was going to live for him from now on.</p><p> </p><p>”Remember no one can make you feel inferior without your consent.” Eleanor Roosevelt</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
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